Black Valentine
by Miratete
Summary: Chapter 8: "Ralph's Black Valentine" posted! Ralph and Vanellope have found the mysterious author of the love letters and Valentine cards. But now...what to do with her?
1. To Build a Better Bat Trap

**Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 1: To Build a Better Bat Trap**

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Whatcha doin', Stinkbrain?" asked Vanellope, bounding up to where Ralph was fussing with his mailbox. Dr. 'Eggman' Robotnik knelt beside him fiddling with a screwdriver and some sort of computer parts at the back of the mailbox.

"Building a trap," replied the wrecker.

"With your mailbox as bait? What? Going to catch a mail-eating monster?" She gave him one of those squinty-eyed looks.

"Nope. Going to catch a mail-delivering monster."

Robotnik chuckled at the joke.

Vanellope gave him another look, but Ralph didn't see it. He was too busy watching Robotnik tinkering with what appeared to be some sort of triggering mechanism attached to the mailbox flap. And after a while he stepped back and put his screwdriver into his pocket. "Well that should do it. Let's test it," said Dr. Robotnik.

"Okay." Ralph said and looked down at Vanellope, who was still rather puzzled as to why Ralph and the scientist were booby-trapping a mailbox.

Ralph pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here. Go put this in the mailbox like you were delivering it."

"Okay..." she said warily. Vanellope walked up to the box, gave the mechanism on the post a glance, and then opened the flap.

Instantly there was a loud twanging noise, and instantly a large net had fallen over her and the mailbox, seemingly out of thin air. "Hey!" she squawked and flailed about the net.

"It works! Eggman, you're a genius!" cheered Ralph.

"I have an IQ of 300. That's well above genius qualifications,"snickered Robotnik.

"Get me out!" wailed Vanellope from the net.

"Just go to the edge and lift up that ring of weights. It's designed to catch a bat. Not a person," explained Ralph.

Vanellope stopped thrashing and did as Ralph instructed, and found that she could escape the trap quite easily.

"A bat?" she questioned when free.

Ralph reset the trap and locked it so it wouldn't catch someone else. "C'mon inside. Let me show you something." He thanked Dr. Robotnik and assured him that if he ever needed anything demolished, the doctor could call on him.

"I know I can count on you," Robotnik said, picking up his tools, stashing them into a bag, and sauntering off. "See you at Bad-Anon."

Vanellope and Ralph went into the house and Ralph pulled a box out from under his bed. Vanellope hopped up next to him as he opened up the box. "For the past seven years someone has been sending me these, one every Valentine's Day."

Peering into the box Vanellope could see a stack of handmade Valentine's Day cards, all gorgeously trimmed with lace and glitter and pink hearts. "Someone's been sending you Valentine's cards? Who would do a crazy thing like that?"

Ralph glared at her. "I think the term you're looking for is actually 'romantic.' Not 'crazy.'"

Vanellope giggled and reached for one. "You know I was just kidding you." She pulled it out of the box and opened it up.

"They get kinda mushy, so just be warned."

Vanellope read, and was stunned. She took out the rest of the cards, read each carefully, gasping at what had been written inside. Someone was definitely in love with Ralph.

Love poems, sweet nothings, sighs of longing, passions written out in red ink. In gorgeous flowery handwriting someone's heart had been spilled across these cards. Each was a work of amorous devotion and a testament to an unrequited love. And each ended with a sad mention of the unfortunate state of things, that the writer could not be with the man she loved, that she had to be content to love him from afar.

"I thought it was a joke at first. I thought the Nicelanders were being teasing me, so I just ignored it. But then another showed up the next year. And the year after that. I began to realize this was a serious thing. Who would put so much work into a joke?"

"Ralph, these are beautiful," Vanellope said in awe. Her cheeks had turned pink at the thought of some lovesick girl finding this the only way to connect with him. "So who is sending them?"

"That's what I'm going to find out."

"Wait. You said the trap is to catch a bat. You think there's a bat in love with you?"

"I think the bat is just the delivery boy." Ralph picked up one of the elaborate cards and read it to himself, a blushing smile creeping across his face as he did so.

"I thought about it a lot, after I realized it wasn't a joke. Possibly it was one of the Nicelander ladies. Possibly someone from outside the game. I could understand a Nicelander lady having this huge crush on me but fearing to let anyone know. You know how my relationship with them was. She'd be laughed or shunned right out of Niceland. So anyway, two years ago I set up a security camera and kept it running all of Valentine's Day. And then I did the same thing the next year. And that's how I found there was a bat delivering these Valentines."

"And there aren't any bats in _Fix-It Felix, Jr._, right?"

"Nope. So it had to be someone from another game delivering them."

"For seven years," mused Vanellope. "That's a long time. So you're going to catch this bat...and then what?"

"I've written a letter to send back to her."

"And it says...what? Stop sending me all these mushy cards if you can't be brave enough to meet me for real?"

"Pipsqueak, someday you're going to fall in love with someone, and I'm going to make sure that all this teasing comes back to haunt you," said Ralph. And then he put his arm around her and hugged her closely.

"I love you, Stinkbrain," she said hugging him tightly. "Don't ever change."

"Anyway, the letter says basically that maybe it's time we met and that perhaps we could get together. I'm willing to go on a blind date with her."

"That's really nice of you."

"Hey, Felix's got Calhoun. Ryu's got Chun-Li. Peach has Bison. Maybe there's some great love in my future too."

"Can I be the flower girl at your wedding?"

Ralph chuckled. "You can be the whole bouquet if you want," he answered and hugged her again. "Wedding," he snorted.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Black Valentine continues in Chapter 2: "Without a Hitch"**

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Wreck-It Ralph _and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	2. Without a Hitch

**Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 2: Without a Hitch**

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Valentine's Day was surprisingly busy at Litwak's, the arcade being filled mostly with unattached teenage boys who were hoping to escape the implications of the holiday by indulging in what a relationship would presumably keep them from.

As Ralph tore apart Niceland again and again that day, he kept thinking about if the trap would work and if his plan would actually work. He tried to think of what female characters in the arcade were associated with bats, or had a lot of bats in their games.

Morrigan came to mind first, that overly sexy succubus from several games, and her equally delicious sister Lilith. No. Couldn't be them. They were too popular and too attractive to even notice him. Perhaps one of the vampire girls in _Castle of Blood._ Or there was _Queen of the Night_ on the far side of the arcade. That was full of bats and women. No, it couldn't be _Queen of the Night_. That game had only been plugged in three years ago. Were there bats in _Dragon Kingdom_? He'd have to ask the Beholder at the next Bad-Anon meeting. Maybe Sorceress' game. Maybe she'd been the one sending him the cards. But then why would she be so secretive about it and say they couldn't be together? She sat there across the room from him at meetings, usually next to Neff. She and Neff sometimes appeared to have something going on, and perhaps she was frustrated with their relationship. Maybe they were even married and sending someone else love notes was her escape, or perhaps her secret punishment toward the husband that didn't appreciate her.

Maybe he was letting his imagination wander too much.

And when the day finally came to an end and Litwak finally closed the arcade that night, half an hour later than usual, Ralph rushed home, eager to see if the plan had worked.

The trap had been sprung, but the net lay without moving. The thought that perhaps someone else had triggered it and climbed out suddenly worried him. But as he came to the net, suddenly there was a fluttering amidst the slack of the net and a bat began flying frantically about the tent created by the mailbox.

"It worked!" he cried gleefully. Through the net he opened the box, and inside was a large envelope addressed to him in the now familiar handwriting. He took a bag from his pocket, slipped it beneath the net, and with some trial and error he managed to get the bat into the bag. "Twinkle, twinkle, little bat. How I wonder what you're at," he sang.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"So whose bat are you?" Ralph asked the twitching bag on his desk as he prepared his letter for mailing back to the sender of the Valentines.

The bat simply shuffled around inside of the bag.

"Well I have a letter here. I'm going to tie it to your leg, and you're to take it back to whoever's sending me these pretty Valentine's Day cards," he told the creature. He glanced over at the newest one, sitting open on his desk. Again it was filled with emotional longings and heart-felt prose, all written out in the old-fashioned script in red ink. Tiny hearts dotted the i's.

He carefully extracted the bat's leg from the bag and tied his letter to it. "Now be sure she gets that," he instructed. Then Ralph took the bat outside and released it to the sky.

The bat's wings were quick to respond and the creature fluttered upwards awkwardly, its aerodynamics changed by the envelope dangling from its leg, and then put on some speed and flew post-haste toward the conduit into Game Central Station. And as he watched it disappear from sight he spotted Vanellope making her way across the lawn toward him. He waved. "Hey, President Prissypants. You just missed it."

She was looking at the sprung trap. "You caught the bat?"

"Yup. Good sized one too."

"And then tortured it into revealing who sent it?"

"Exactly. Why don't you come inside and I'll show you exactly what I did to it. I've still got all my instruments of death lying out," he teased.

"Well first read my card and have some Valentine's candy," she giggled, holding up the basket hanging on her arm. It was full of heart-shaped chocolates, cinnamon imperials, and conversation hearts.

Ralph sat down where he was and took the oversized card out of the top of the basket, opening the envelope with much pomp and reverence.

"I made it myself," she grinned and hugged his arm.

"I can see that," he said appreciatively as a snowfall of loose glitter trickled from the card. "To Ralph," he read aloud. "I can't write fancy poems and I can't write all fancy loopy scrolly either, but I wanted to tell you that you're the best friend I ever had. You'll always be my hero. Happy Valentine's Day from Vanellope."

The little girl squeezed his arm tightly as he came to the end of it.

"That's so sweet," he said. "You're the best."

"Awwww!" She kissed his bicep. "So did you get another card from this person?"

"I did."

"Is it pretty?"

"The prettiest yet."

"Do I get to see it?"

"Of course."

"She must love you a lot. I hope she's not mad that you were handling her bat."

"Naw...she won't be once she reads my letter."

"What did you write her?"

"Something mushy," Ralph grinned.

"Did you say you wanted to kiss her?"

"Absolutely."

"Did'ya say you wanted to kiss her using your tongue, like Felix and Sgt. Scary do when they think no one's looking?"

Ralph coughed, taken somewhat aback by the question, and then he laughed. "Of course! That's the best way!" He flopped his tongue out of his mouth like a panting dog.

Vanellope made a face. "Bleah! That's so gross."

Ralph laughed again . "C'mon. I'll show you what she sent me." Together they went into Ralph's house to read the newest Valentine card.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Black Valentine continues in Chapter 3: "Letter Exchange"**

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Wreck-It Ralph _and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	3. Letter Exchange

**Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 3: Letter Exchange**

-o-o-o-o-o-

Ralph wondered if he'd ever hear back from his secret admirer. Vanellope could be right. Perhaps she'd be angry at him for capturing her bat. Or perhaps writing back in itself would make her nervous and this eighth valentine would be the last.

But then again, perhaps she'd be impressed and would take some initiative toward meeting him. Or perhaps the shy girl would write back and thank him. Perhaps she would show up herself.

And coming home after work one night he spotted a bat hanging upside down from his mailbox. As he approached it fluttered up into the nearest tree, but inside the box an envelope. Forgetting all about meeting Vanellope that night, he rushed inside and tore open the envelope.

A letter, written in the same flowery hand, had come in response.

_My dearest Ralph,_

_ I am torn by your desire to meet me, for I myself would love nothing more than to see you in person, to see you there having come for me, to hold you and whisper these feelings into your ears. I think my aching heart would burst into flame—not those of consuming fire, but the pink and violet flames of love. But alas, this cannot be. Our lonely paths shall always be separate for what we are. Please forgive me for not wishing to change what we have. Why risk losing this innocent flower when reality could crush it so easily? Yours faithfully and forever..._

Ralph sighed. Her timidity had again won out.

-o-o-o-o-o-

He showed the letter to Vanellope, who read it thrice. "And I thought she used that kinda language only for her poems to you," replied the girl. And then she noticed the dejected look in Ralph's eyes. "Hey, buck up. There are other girls out there, right?"

"I suppose," he said softly. "I guess I kinda have feelings for her since she's cared about me for so long. Longer than anyone else has ever cared about me."

Vanellope glitched up onto his shoulder and rumpled his hair. "Hey, you know how women are. You gotta play by their rules."

This wasn't encouraging and he sighed again.

"Hey, c'mon. Let's go to the playground in Niceland and we can spin each other on the merry-go-round and see who throws up first."

Ralph chuckled. "All right, President Penguinpudge. We should get some of the other racers to come with us, because you know they'll get sick first."

"Oooh! Let's get Sour Bill to come and see how much he can take."

They laughed like chattering squirrels at the thought of a nauseated Sour Bill rolling about the sand fighting not to puke.

And several hours later the contingent from _Sugar Rush_ staggered home, still dizzy from far too much fun on the playground. Rancis could barely walk and had to be supported by Candlehead and Swizzle. Ralph walked back to his house, having said his goodbyes to Vanellope.

And on reaching his front door, he turned and realized that the bat was hanging from his mailbox again. "What are you doing still here?" he asked it. "Shoo!"

The bat simply shuffled its footing on the underside of the box.

And when he took the trash out later, the thing was still hanging there.

"What? Was I supposed to write back?"

The bat flapped his wings and squeaked loudly.

"Well fine. I'll write back. What am I supposed to say though?" He turned to go inside, and the moment he opened the door the bat flew into the house. It fluttered about the ceiling for a bit, but then found a perch to hang from beneath the desk shelf.

Ralph sat down and placed a piece of paper in front of him. The bat flapped its wings again and settled contentedly.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The bat continued to appear, bringing letters for him, written by his lonely secret admirer. And the dutiful bat would hang around until Ralph produced a letter for it to return. Sometimes it would hang from the underside of the shelf above his desk. Sometimes it would hang from the ceiling lamp fixture. Sometimes it would hang from the mailbox. And even if he went a week without writing the bat would linger faithfully, waiting for a missive to its mistress.

Ralph found it difficult at first to profess any affection for the unseen, unknown woman, but over time and the more he 'conversed' with her through ink and paper, the easier it became. And in time he realized he too had real feelings for her as well, something more than the general fondness he had carried once he had decided the Valentines were genuine.

Vanellope was most curious about the romantic affair, and she eagerly read their letters and suggested things he should write back. And it wasn't just silly childish things either. Somewhere deep inside there was a real knack for matters of the heart.

At first he didn't ask again for a meeting, but after ten letters had passed into the care of the bat, his next letter insisted on taking this relationship to the next step. "Maybe I'm not as patient or accepting as you are, but I have to meet you. I can't keep writing to someone I don't know," he pleaded with the purple ink pen Vanellope had gifted him with. "I'm a physical person, and I have to know that you are as well. I know I sound silly for this, and maybe I am just a big dumb galoot, but I want to have something real."

-o-o-o-o-o-

She did not respond within the usual three or four days as before, and Ralph wondered if perhaps his insistence had scared her away. At first he felt sad to have lost her. And then he tried to console himself with the fact that there hadn't been much to the relationship in the first place. Romantic cards sent to him over the years, and then a handful of letters exchanged. What kind of a love affair was that? And then he went back to regretting what he had said, for the something they had was better than nothing at all.

But then it was so wonderful just to have those heartfelt missives. Those days before he'd gone Turbo, he could at least come home after a particularly miserable day, get out the box of cards and read the poems to himself. And with the renewal of the passionate words of care and yearning, he'd feel better inside. Someone out there wanted him.

And two weeks after his imploring note, her response came.

Ralph read it again and again. And then he put the letter into his pocket and headed for _Sugar Rush_.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Black Valentine continues in Chapter 4: "A Strange Twist"**

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Wreck-It Ralph _and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	4. A Strange Twist

**Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 4: A Strange Twist**

-o-o-o-o-o-

Vanellope read the letter out loud.

_My beloved Ralph,_

_I know that I have refused to meet you, but have never given you a real reason as to why. If you must know why we cannot be together, that reason is simple. I'm not human. Far from it. It is my honest hope that you will accept this as to why things must be as they are. And I hope you shall forgive me for being so unkind with my refusals. My love for you burns inexhaustibly. I drown in a pool of melancholy that this flame shall never burn to fruition. But love is a fragile thing. If you were to see me as I am, if you were to see more of me than the words I pour out to you, the hot wind of rejection would wither that flower we call love. In dearest respect and admiration..._

"Ralph..." said Vanellope. "This is serious. I can see why she's afraid to meet you." She looked up at Ralph, tears in the corners of her eyes. "So that's whats wrong with her. I always thought she was ugly or old or something like that. She could be a robot or a monster or something horrible, or maybe she's like some sentient teapot or piece of furniture." Such things existed in several games.

"Yeah...she could be anything."

Vanellope took his hand. "And then what? What if she was a teapot? Could you love her then?"

Ralph sighed and looked around Vanellope's bedroom as if he could find an answer. "I... I... I don't know if I could. It's easy to love someone when I can envision her as this lonely girl sitting there gracefully writing these romantic letters to me. But if she's not human...it's just not the same."

Vanellope gave his hand a squeeze. "Well think about it, Ralph. It's a hard question to answer."

The wrecker looked down at her and smiled. "I was kinda hoping that it was Taffyta writing to me. But she's human so it can't be her."

"Stinkbrain!" Vanellope exclaimed and punched Ralph in the leg.

"Ow," he cried and then laughed. "Let's go to _Tapper_'s and get some rootbeer. Maybe I'll think of something when I'm drunk."

"Ralph! You know you can't think reasonably when you're drunk!" she protested.

"Nope, but I'm sure I'll come up with something," he chuckled.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Black Valentine continues in Chapter 5: Hot on the Trail**

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Wreck-It Ralph _and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	5. Hot on the Trail

**Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 5: Hot on the Trail**

-o-o-o-o-o-

At the next Bad-Anon meeting, Clyde was about to start, but Ralph interrupted him. "Before we begin, I was wondering if any of you could identify this." He reached into the cloth bag he'd brought with him and pulled the bat out of it.

"Ah, the trap worked," said Dr. Robotnik.

"It's a bat," said Bison.

The other Bad-Anon members all snickered. "Are you sure it's a bat? Maybe it's a mouse with wings," commented Smoke.

"It's a goddamn bat," said Count Lacaille. "There are thousands of them in my game. They bother even me even though they're supposed to be on my side." He folded his arms over his chest. "They get caught in my daughter's hair, and their pointless squeaking keeps me awake when I'm trying to sleep," he grouched.

"Your daughter's got more hair than Rapunzel and Marge Simpson put together. I can see why," snickered Kano.

Count Lacaille gave him an awkward little laugh to show that he was not amused.

"Look, I know it's a bat," said Ralph, knowing the others were teasing him. "I'm just trying to find out whose game this particular bat comes from."

Some of the members came up and peered at the captive thing, held with it's wings spread, studying it closely. They scrutinized it and debated if it were one of theirs. The general consensus was that this particular bat had come from _Undead Apocalypse III_.

"Raggghhh! Good game!" pronounced Zombie. "Not as good as _House of Dead_, but good game anyway."

"Okay, thanks." Ralph returned the bat to the bag and tucked it under his chair.

The meeting began and Bowser started up by complaining about about Mario. Every now and then the plumber hero got a little heavy-handed with him, especially after Princess Peach had started dating Bison a couple years ago. But all through the monster's rant, Ralph could not help but keep his mind off of the possible identity of the bat's mistress.

Vanellope had suggested that his admirer could be a monster or something horrible, and that seemed to be the case. There were two 'normal' women in the _Undead Apocalypse III_, the protagonist's little sister and his girlfriend. But his admirer wouldn't be one of them. There were plenty of zombie chicks though—zombie chicks that burst through doors, rose up from their graves, fell out of closets, appeared on the roads. And those were just the zombies. There were plenty of other undead denizens as well...ghosts, mummies, ghouls, creepers, skeletons—all kinds of horrible things that went bump in the night.

Ralph thought back to all the past Halloweens. The undead and monstrous were generally shunned and discouraged from 'spending too much time' in Game Central Station. It really was a double standard, but the tables were turned come October, when they were welcomed. And for the week before Halloween, Tapper opened his doors to this segment of the population only and their 'living' guests. That was how he had first met Zombie, who got him in as his guest, and that was how Ralph had met most of the undead women he knew. For a stumbling, bumbling, inarticulate hunk of grey flesh, Zombie seemed to be quite the ladies' man when it came to dead girls. Every night in October, Ralph would see some different undead woman on his arm.

...That blond zombie in the red dress with the ear that fell off every time her date kissed her.

...The corpse girl who kept a giant cockroach in her purse like a pet chihuahua.

...The adorable Chinese zombie who always corrected everyone with "I'm a jiangshi" whenever called a zombie, apparently to distinguish herself from the ordinary undead.

...The inky blob of something that clung to a skeleton for a humanoid shape, apparently not her own skeleton, just a borrowed one from her game. Zombie kept calling her his "Tar Babe".

...The vampiress with the fabulous legs and the less than fabulous speech impediment from her oversized fangs.

…The girl who from the neck down had the body and confidence of a lingerie model. But above the neck she had the head and tentacles of an octopus, complete with bulgy eyes and a sharp beak.

…The tall zombie who danced much of the night with Ralph, and wasn't the least bit offended when he accidentally pulled her arm off during a tango.

Zombie apparently got around a lot, not just within his own game, but to others as well.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When the meeting was over, Ralph went over to _Sugar Rush_ and found Vanellope down in the kart garage. Wearing a pair of overalls, she was bent over her kart along with her marshmallow mechanics. "Hey Chumbo! How'd it go? Did you find out where it came from?"

Ralph nodded somberly.

One of her eyebrows raised questioningly. "Oh? Going to tell me or do I have to guess?"

He sighed. "_Undead Apocalypse III_."

Vanellope smiled happily. "So that's where she's from." And then the realization hit her, and the smile turned to one of sympathy. "Oh..."

He sat down heavily on a nearby bench and looked at his hands. Perhaps she'd been one of Zombie's dates, and that was how she'd met him. What game was that tall zombie girl from? She'd even kissed him on the cheek at the end of the night, and she always waved to him each time she spotted him after that. Admittedly she was pretty good-looking for a corpse. But the thought of getting attached to her made him shudder.

Vanellope hopped up onto the bench beside Ralph and took off her work gloves, and then gripped his hand. "We knew this was a possibility," she said sadly.

"Yeah."

"At least she probably isn't a teapot."

"I dunno, Vanellope. I think of all those pretty cards she sent me, and that handwriting. I mean, that's the handwriting of a princess. One that doesn't write using crayons of course," he jabbed at Vanellope.

"I only use crayon to sign State documents," she countered with a mischievous giggle.

"Anyway. She's probably a zombie and smells bad and bits of her fall off at awkward moments."

"Yeah..." agreed Vanellope. "I guess I understand now why she's always been so shy."

"I mean, look how much the Nicelanders were startled by Felix marrying outside of our game. Imagine what they'd think if I brought home Corpserella?"

"Ralph, could you please ask your girlfriend to stop chewing on my head," said Vanellope, her voice in gruff imitation of Gene's scolding.

"Hey Ralph, your girlfriend left her purse outside your house last night, so I brought it in for you. And I think this is her foot too. It was next to her purse."

Vanellope was laughing but sticking her tongue out in disgust as well. "Oh, Corpserella, I love your dress. Are those real maggots crawling on it?"

"Imagine if we got married. Who gives this woman's hand in marriage? And the rest of her as well?" Ralph chuckled. "And we'd probably use a chainsaw to cut the cake."

Vanellope giggled. "Oh, that open grave in the yard? That's where my wife sleeps."

They laughed for a while and then Ralph hugged Vanellope closely. "Thanks. I needed a little cheering up."

"Anytime, Stinkbrain."

After a couple minutes of sitting in silence sharing some cookies, Ralph spoke again. "Still, those were some really nice poems she wrote, and I think she made those Valentine cards herself, with all the glitter and lace."

"They smelled of perfume. Not like rotting meat."

"So I guess she really cares."

Ralph looked up at the ceiling of the garage. "I'm going to go take a walk and think about this."

"Want me to come with?" she asked, squeezing his hand again.

"Sure."

Vanellope glitched out of her coveralls and onto his shoulder. She took his overalls strap in her hand and slapped it against him. "Forward, my faithful zombie-loving steed!" she commanded.

"Yeah, right," he moaned, and then smirked.

-o-o-o-o-o-

After the discovery of his admirer's game and the discussion with Vanellope, many nights were spent lying awake, wondering how to proceed with the relationship. And wondering simply whether to continue it or not. Somehow knowing that there wasn't some gorgeous princess in a far away kingdom writing him love letters had put a real damper on his enthusiasm. And he would have been almost equally enthused with a lonely housewife or a bored NPC or a disillusioned avatar. But now that he knew that she wasn't human, or probably even close to it, the feelings had changed. There was a certain degree of acceptability, but for her to be so hesitant meant she had to swing to the far end of the spectrum, away from what was 'normal' and closer to what was 'paranormal."

He kept thinking about the sort of women he'd seen Zombie with. What kind of a relationship could he expect to have with one of that sort? Could he get past her physical nature?

Maybe it was time to let Zombie in on the affair and see what the undead Casanova had to say.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**_Black Valentine_ continues in Chapter 6: Don Juan of the Dead (Yes, it's a play on words. Dawn of the Dead...get it?)**

**If you're enjoying this story, you might also enjoy my WIR story "Filling in the Empty Spots." It's another Ralph-romance tale, but with some very sad moments, and some squee-inducing moments, and a sweet ending that will make you feel warm inside.**

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Wreck-It Ralph _and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	6. Don Juan of the Dead

**Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 6: Don Juan of the Dead**

-o-o-o-o-o-

Zombie waved to Ralph and Vanellope as the corpse got off of the train from _House of the Dead. _"You must be president-princess girl Ralph talks about." He tucked an ax beneath his arm and extended his limp hand to her, and she cautiously shook it.

"That's me," she said hoping nothing would fall off of Ralph's fellow villain or that nothing would crawl out of him.

They went over to _Tapper's_ to talk. Tapper had generously allowed them use of his normally closed back room so they could chat where no one would complain about the corpse there out of season.

"Woman likes you. That's good. Wurrrruugh! Woman not human, but from _Undead Apocalypse_. That's bad," was Zombie's appraisal of the situation. "Bad for Ralph. Good for Zombie. Bad for Ralph." His head lolled to the side.

"Any idea who...or what...she might be?"

"Yeah. I want to know how gross this girl is that's been wanting Ralph all these years," laughed Vanellope. "I'll bet she's hideous."

"Don't know. Lots of girls in _Undead Apocalypse_." Zombie's grimace suddenly curled into a smile. "Nice girls."

"Do you think we might be able to find her?"

"Baaaaah! You still have bat?"

"Yeah," said Ralph.

"We can take bat to game. Ask where bat comes from."

"That sounds reasonable," said Vanellope. She picked up her mug and took a long drink from it.

"Maybe find her that way," he said, his head flopping to the other side. "Maybe find bat's home. Ask about the handwriting." Ralph had shown Zombie some of the Valentines and Zombie had actually put down his axes to look more closely.

"How familiar are you with _Undead Apocalypse III_?" Ralph inquired.

"Somewhat. They always happy to see me. Bruggggh-huh-huh," he said grinning, his eyes drifting off in two different directions with his laughter.

"Do you think we could go there now?"

"Sure! Zombie need date for Saitine's birthday party next week. I can find one there."

Ralph shook his head. "Better hide your wife and lock up your ghouls," Ralph mumbled to Vanellope, who laughed and coughed rootbeer across the table.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Hello! Anyone home?"

"Hold your pompoms! I'm coming!" called a voice from behind the door of the cabin at the edge of the game. It was a relatively cheerful looking place, with flowerboxes on the porch and red-painted shutters at the windows. But beyond the immaculate green lawn and flowerbeds of daisies were what appeared to be miles of graveyards, fetid marshes, treacherous hillsides, and dismal forests.

A brunette teenager wearing a cheerleader's uniform answered the door and peered at the three visitors, looking like quite the assortment of misfits. "Hi!" she greeted them perkily. "I love your ponytail!" she said to Vanellope.

"Thanks! I like yours."

The cheerleader giggled. "Are you going to be a cheerleader when you grow up?"

"I'm actually going to be a football player," said Vanellope snidely.

"We're here looking for where this bat comes from," said Ralph before the conversation went too far in the wrong direction. He pulled the poor bat from its bag and spread its wings open for the girl.

"Ewww... it's a big bat!"

"Do you know what kind of a bat it is, or what area of your game it comes from?"

"Nope. I don't like the bats. They're annoying. But I'm sure someone here knows."

"Like..." prompted Ralph.

The girl put her finger to her chin. "Hmm. I'll bet that lady at the museum knows. She knows everything."

"The museum?"

"It's like the sixth level of this game. But there's this curator zombie lady and she's pretty smart. You could ask her."

"How do we get there? Have you got a map?"

"I'll take you there," the cheerleader squeaked. "Hang on. Let me get my pompoms."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Ralph, Zombie and Vanellope followed the cheerleader, who had introduced herself as Cindy, the little sister of the game's protagonist. She led them through the depressing landscape of _Undead Apocalypse III, _chattering non-stop about her cheerleading routines and her favorite salad dressing. Ralph and Vanellope had been there before when game-hopping, but not into the area Cindy was taking them to. But apparently Zombie was no stranger, for as they passed, some of the denizens greeted him, various ghosts and walking corpses. A few skeletal arms that protruded next to the pathway waved at them. Cindy shook her pompoms at them in her own greeting.

And eventually they came to a large, imposing building with its door hanging ajar. A marquee outside read "History Museum." They went inside and at the information desk a chubby lady zombie was filing papers. "Hey Cindy. Oh! Cyril! Nice to see you!" She immediately took off her spectacles.

"Hurragggh!" he groaned in greeting. "You got time to talk?"

"For you, Cyril, always." She quickly turned away, grabbed a compact, and dabbed a little powder onto her face.

"Cyril?" asked Vanellope.

"Zombies have names too, guh!"

"Yeah, but 'Cyril'? It's not exactly fear-inspiring, is it?" she tittered.

"Is good name for a zombie."

The five of them tucked into a seating area at the side of the entry hall, Cindy plopping herself down next to Vanellope, obviously having taken a liking the spunky little girl. "You really should be a cheerleader," she said to her. "It's so much fun. Sometimes I sneak into other games and do my cheers there."

"I'll consider it," said Vanellope sarcastically.

"You should. You've got the right hair for it."

"Is that the main qualification?" asked Vanellope snarkily with a flip of said ponytail.

"I'm Leora, curator of the History Museum here in Undead Apocalypse III," said the chubby woman, taking a seat and winking at Zombie. "Now how may I assist?"

"I have this bat here, and I'm told it came from this game, said Ralph, taking the bat out of the bag again. He spread its wings and showed it to Leora, who studied it closely.

"Ah, it looks like a Tomb Bat, or a Quarry Bat. There's no difference between them though besides location."

"Anyway, this bat has been coming to my game now, for about seven years."

"Oh? Why?"

"It's been delivering messages to me...Valentines and love letters."

"Oh..." She peered again at the bat.

"OMG!" squeaked Cindy. "I didn't know someone here was dating you."

"Well, no. Not really," said Ralph. "Just sending me cards and letters. They've been coming to me anonymously."

"Oooh! A secret admirer!" she gushed. "That's so romantic."

"Yeah. Anyway. I caught it and was thinking I'd try to track her down. Well, someone said it was from here, and...well. I suppose that means that whoever has been writing to me is most likely living here."

"Interesting," said Leora. She put her spectacles back on and looked closer at the bat.

"That's just so romantic!" Cindy blurted. "Love from beyond the grave."

"But undead not your type," said Zombie, ignoring the cheerleader.

"Yeah...well maybe. Maybe not. I guess." Ralph rubbed the back of his head. Ralph went on to tell Leora the story of the cards and the letters and what the last letter had said.

"So you were wondering if you could find her and if possibly you might consider dating her once you saw her?"

"Yes," he replied weakly.

"Do you have any experience with undead women?" asked Leora.

Ralph shook his head.

"Wuuugggghhhh! Zombie girls bad for living people."

"Yeah. I mean, I've met some of your girlfriends, and they're nice enough and all..."

"But dead."

"I guess so. But for some stupid reason I still want to meet her." Ralph pulled out the last letter. "Any idea who wrote this?" he asked, handing it to Leora.

The curator scrutinized it closely. "Hmmm... pretty handwriting."

A female Egyptian mummy, who had been watching from an upper balcony earlier, came closer and sat down next to Ralph. Some of the bandages wrapping her were in a perpetual state of falling away, revealing a fairly attractive girl with pale brown skin, a lush Egyptian wig, large breasts, and elaborately painted eyes. "I overheard your story. It really is romantic," she said.

"That's what I said," piped up Cindy.

"Do you know whose handwriting this is, Khaferet?" asked the curator, handing the paper to the mummy.

The Egyptian looked at it for a while and then shook her head. "No idea."

"Well where do the Quarry Bats and the Tomb Bats live?" asked Vanellope.

"Well, there are Tomb Bats here in this museum, in one of the graveyards, and in both levels of the Catacombs. And Quarry Bats are found only in the Rock Quarry. I guess that doesn't narrow it down much."

"Well, are there any ladies living in any of those places who might use a bat to deliver messages?"

"Living?" The three women from the game all giggled. "Living."

"You know what I meant," huffed Vanellope. "I can't exactly ask 'Are there an ladies deading in any of these places' now, can I?"

Zombie's head flopped to the other side. "Lots of great ladies in this game, every stage," he said with a wink at the curator. "Maybe you come to a party with me next week? Birthday party for friend."

"I'd love to," she tittered happily, a blush actually forming on her blue-grey cheeks.

Ralph sighed. What was it these women saw in Zombie? He looked back at the bat, now hanging from his finger. He had let it go, but it had refused to leave him. "It might take a lot of searching to track her down. And she might not even admit it even if I found her."

"Why don't you just write her another letter and tell her that you know she's in Undead Apocalypse III, and that you don't care who she is or what she looks like and that you really want to meet her, and maybe you'll find there's some chemistry between you two," said Cindy.

The other three all stared. For once the girl had actually said something worthwhile.

"I suppose that would work," said Ralph, mulling over the idea.

"It might. If you can still write letters to her."

"This bat's still hanging around waiting for a reply," he said, holding up his finger.

"Ralph, if you really want to meet her, then it's worth a try," said Vanellope. "Maybe the bat could lead you to her."

"Ralph! Wugggghhh! Write letter and follow bat!" said Zombie.

"That's a great idea !" said the curator.

"Have you ever dated an undead girl though?" asked Khaferet. "I mean, if you're going to go find her, perhaps you should be ready for what would probably come next."

"I haven't, but I have been thinking about it now that I know "

"But he's so desperate he'll date any girl of any kind," offered Vanellope.

Ralph grabbed Vanellope and muffled her mouth. "What my dear little friend is saying, is that when I found out my secret admirer was from here, I realized that at that point it was too far not to go back. I mean, she's probably some kind of monster, and maybe I won't like her because of that. But at this point I have to find out. I'm willing to give it a go."

"That's the spirit!" exclaimed Cindy, at which she jumped up and shook her pompoms enthusiastically.

"If you decide that there's some chemistry between you two, I'll tell you all about undead women," offered Khaferet. "You can't say same things to them as living women."

"Wuuukkkkgh! Maybe we could double date. I know vampire girl who likes double dates."

"Cyril, how many girlfriends do you have?" asked Cindy, putting her hands on her hips.

"Just one now. Curator zombie," he said winking at Leora. His eyelid got stuck down and refused to open again, until he physically pushed it back up.

Khaferet took Ralph's arm. "Well, if you'd like, I could take you out tonight myself and give you a little lesson on dating the undead." Her long thin fingers stroked his arm and she looked up at him with smoldering dark eyes and smiling lips. And admittedly, Ralph did have to admit that for a corpse she was quite attractive, and the way her bandages wrapped her chest provided her with some rather convincing cleavage.

"Truggh!" Zombie commented. "Ralph has girlfriend. Not know name yet, but has girl. Cyril take Khaferet out. Show her good time...good time with first aid kit."

Ralph groaned. The undead had something of a strange sense of humor.

The mummy girl smiled at him and leaned forward. "All right, Cyril. I know a nice place with a good view of the cursed lake. We'll get a bucket of beetles for dinner and watch the ghost-lights."

"Khaferet, I seem to recall that you're married," sniped the curator, a little indignant that the mummy girl would make a date with the man who was taking her out next week, and with the nerve to make the date right in front of her too.

The mummy girl pouted. "He's just my programmed husband."

"If he's just your 'programmed husband' than how come you're sleeping in his sarcophagus when you have your own across the room.

"Hmmph," Khaferet pouted and crossed her arms, sitting back into the sofa she shared with Ralph.

Ralph sat there in complete amazement—amazed that the mummy girl had obviously found him attractive, amazed that he found her attractive and human enough to have been ready to accept her offer, amazed that Zombie had tried to make a date with her right then and there, and amazed that the curator had been jealous enough to bring up the fact that she was married. It was the 'soap-opera of the damned' unfolding right in front of him.

And here he'd always been told that the undead just sorta stumbled about groaning and mumbling and didn't care much about anything.

More importantly though, he'd begun to steel himself for the possibility of an involved relationship with one of them. Perhaps his admirer would be bearably attractive and at least humanoid.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**_Black Valentine_ continues in Chapter 7: Red Ink, Black Ink**

**If you're enjoying this story, check out my story "A Minion's Date" written in the "Despicable Me" fandom. It's another of my wacky romance comedies.**

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Wreck-It Ralph _and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	7. Red Ink, Black Ink

**Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 7: Red Ink, Black Ink**

-o-o-o-o-o-

"All right. So here's how it works." Sgt. Calhoun slid the little knob on the tiny device held in Vanellope's hand to the the on position. "Step one. Switch on the transmitter. That goes into the envelope of your letter."

She opened up the top of the thing on the ground that looked like a Frisbee on steroids and slid its button to the on position as well. The interior immediately lit up with red light. "Step two. Switch on the sky unit." She then slidthe knob on the hand-held receiver and it lit up with red light as well. "Step three. Switch on the tracker. I've got it set to coordinate automatically with these two pieces."

"So basically, switch these three things on?" asked Vanellope.

"Yep," responded Calhoun with a curt nod.

Suddenly the lights on the sky unit and the tracker turned green synchronously.

"Step four, when the lights go green, push the green button that reads 'launch'." Calhoun bent over the sky unit, pressed the green button reading 'launch' in block letters, slapped the top closed, and stepped back. In about ten seconds a jet ignited beneath the unit, lifting it a foot off the ground, and in five more seconds it blasted itself upwards into the perpetual night of _Fix-It Felix, Jr.._

"All right, Nellie. Take that transmitter and run away like you're the bat," she told the girl.

"How far?"

"As far as you want."

Vanellope dashed off into the trees while Calhoun showed Ralph how to read the blips on the display. "So now you can track that envelope anywhere, but you only have about thirty minutes of power in the sky unit. When it runs out of power and comes back down, it will be in the vicinity of the transmitter. And it will keep tracking the transmitter for another hour as long as the transmitter stays in range, which is only about 2000 feet."

Ralph and Calhoun followed Vanellope a while until he felt comfortable with the strange but useful piece of technology. "So? Ready to try the real thing?"

"I think so."

Calhoun smiled at him. "I'll put a fresh power cell into the sky unit so it will be completely ready to go when you're going to use it. And hey, good luck with this," she grinned. "For better or for worse."

Ralph punched her lightly on the shoulder. "Thanks."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The next day after the arcade closed and after dinner out at _Burger Time_, Ralph and Vanellope made their way into _Undead Apocalypse III_. They avoided the pleasant little cabin at the entrance of the game, making their way off to a quiet area to the side.

_Dearest Admirer,_

_I have tracked you to this game, and I'm still desperate to see you. Maybe I'm being a fool, but I will find you, and very soon I hope. I'm willing to take the risk of being a fool just to meet you. Your devoted recipient, Wreck-It Ralph_

"I suppose that says it all," said Vanellope, tucking the letter into its envelope. Ralph pulled the bat out of its bag while Vanellope switched on the transmitter and eased the tiny device between the shell of the envelope and its lining paper. "Lined envelopes are so classy, but in this case quite handy," remarked the girl.

As Ralph held the bat's leg out she tied the envelope to it. And then she switched on the sky unit and the tracking device. When the lights turned green, she launched the sky unit and Ralph released the bat.

Vanellope held Ralph's hand as the bat flew away, and when they could no longer see it, Ralph looked at the viewscreen on the tracker. The blip representing the moving transmitter showed clearly. "So...lets go find your soon-to-be-non-secret admirer," said Vanellope excitedly.

Ralph had also borrowed a hoverboard from Calhoun and he and the president were soon on it, following after the clueless bat, following slowly and not too closely. It was not a fast flyer. "Looks like we've got ourselves a Quarry Bat," proclaimed Ralph as their target headed into the quarry stage of _Undead Apocalypse III_. Ralph slowed the cruiser to a crawl.

"Yeah. I wonder what kind of monsters live here?"

Vanellope soon found out. There were several shambling skeletons hanging about, as well as a few ghosts that appeared to be the victims of quarry accidents. Deeper in, several large golems of broken rock were spotted. "I think that one's giving you the eye, Ralph," teased Vanellope of the golem waving at them. Everyone was so friendly here.

"You wish, Kid." Ralph waved back at the stony humanoid. "She sure is pretty though," he teased in return.

"How could you tell that she was a she'"

"I could see that the programmers had been careful to cover up her pebbles," grinned Ralph.

Vanellope groaned and punched Ralph in the leg.

"Hey, the bat's stopped moving," he announced abruptly. He stopped the board and brought it to the ground. "Yeah..." He looked at the map he'd gotten of _Undead Apocalypse III_, and then compared it to the monitor of the tracker. "Looks like he's right at the end of this stage, in the boss fight area."

"Maybe your girlfriend's the stage boss," mused Vanellope.

Ralph was unsure of how to respond to that, but he started up the board again and proceeded toward the end of the quarry, now ignoring the various quarry denizens lounging about on their off-duty hours. Seven years of mystery would soon unravel. Eight Valentines would soon have a sender attached to them.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The mists floating in the heavy air had grown thicker the further into the quarry level they went, and by the time they came to where the transmitter had stopped, visibility was down to a stone's throw. They circled the area slowly. The quarry had come to a dead end, terminating in a large inky pool. There were several dead trees about, and in one of them the much familiar bat hung upside down. At the far end a steep cliff enclosed the pool, while at the near end, the bare gravel and sand of the quarry sloped down to the water. A number of human and animal skeletons lay scattered about the shore. Not sentient ones...just prop skeletons here.

Vanellope hopped off the board and walked down to the mirror-still pool. "So this is it. I guess she's hiding."

Ralph himself dismounted and shut down the engines of Calhoun's hoverboard. "I don't know." He studied the screen on the tracking unit again. Thankfully the signals penetrated right through the dismal fog.

Vanellope picked up a flattish stone, wound up, and flung it as to skip it across the pool's surface.

But the stone did not skip. Instead it lodged itself into the black surface. Apparently the pool was not composed of water.

She picked up another stone and tossed it into the pool. It sat for a moment on the surface before sinking down into the morass. Picking up a stick from beneath one of the dead trees she poked at the inky goop, finding it to be the consistency of thick cake batter. "Check this out Ralph. It's not water."

"Well it says here on the map that the end boss is the 'Quarry Ink.' I wonder if that's what you're poking at."

"I dunno. It doesn't seem alive. Where's the signal coming from?"

"Inside of it."

"Maybe when your secret admirer heard you were coming she drowned herself in shame."

"Somehow I doubt that."

Ralph came down to the edge of the pool and crouched beside her. He watched Vanellope stir the thick ooze with a stick. "It looks kinda like tar," he said.

"I think it's molasses."

"Of course you would, Kid. Well lets look around a bit more," he said and they stood back up. "See if she comes out. Or maybe there's a cave under this stuff that she's hiding in."

Suddenly Vanellope shrieked and stumbled back. "What is that?" she gasped in fright, pointing at the pool.

Ralph looked back.

About ten feet from the edge of the pool, a pillar of the black substance had risen about seven feet straight upwards. It loomed without moving.

"Ralph what is it?" Vanellope whimpered, and then she bolted to where Ralph had left the cruiser parked.

The wrecker stared at it, a mostly shapeless mass drawn up from the surface of the pool. Admittedly, it was really eerie Especially with the way it just stood there, silent and unmoving, the mists of the damp night floating around it in the semi-darkness. "Hello?" he finally found the courage to say. "Are you the Quarry Ink? The stage boss here?"

It did not respond.

"Uh, my name's Ralph. Wreck-It Ralph. We were looking for someone."

"Ralph...c'mon. Get away from that thing! It's creepy!" Vanellope squeaked.

And then it shifted, the column gliding silently a couple of feet closer

"Ralph!" Vanellope wailed impatiently.

And then something began to emerge from the inky black column, expelled from inside of it.

Ralph bit his lip when he saw that the emerging object was the letter and envelope that he had sent with the bat. "Oh no..."

"Sweet mother of monkey milk! That's your letter," Vanellope cried.

And then the column sank, flowing back into the morass until it was just a large bump on the surface of the pool. "I told you not to come... I told you we couldn't meet," sobbed a woman's voice. "Why did you have to find me?" The sound of bitter tears filled the misty air.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**_Black Valentine_ continues in Chapter 8: Ralph's Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Wreck-It Ralph _and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


	8. Ralph's Black Valentine

**Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

**Chapter 8: Ralph's Black Valentine**

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Oh wow..." gaped Ralph. "So you're the one..."

The bump trembled, and then it rolled closer to the shore. "Why? Everything was so perfect..."

Ralph crouched down again. "What's your name?" he asked softly.

"I'm the Quarry Ink. Yes, the stage boss. And yes, I sent those cards and letters."

"It was really nice of you," he said honestly. "So nice that I just had to come and find you. And this is my best friend Vanellope," he said, gesturing the girl forward. "She helped me to find you."

"I see."

"I just couldn't stay away. You wrote so many nice things. Such pretty poems."

The Quarry Ink sighed. "Yes, I did," she said without any enthusiasm.

"But, um...why me? And how did you know me?"

"I met you years ago, one Halloween season," said the bump shyly.

"Where?"

"_Root Beer Tapper_. Cyril had asked me out."

Ralph sat down as his mind rushed back to Zombie's dates, scanning years of women seen on the corpse's arm. "The tar babe!" he exclaimed on recognizing her.

The Quarry Ink huffed, but then giggled. "Yes. That's what he called me." The bump flattened out, only to be replaced by a large pseudopod which emerged from the pool and overflowed a skeleton that was lying on the bank about fifteen feet away. She engulfed it and rose in a humanoid shape. A primitive face formed over the features of the skull.

"I wonder if she could do the same thing with a teapot," tittered Vanellope, having overcome her fear and come to Ralph's side.

The Quarry Ink staggered over and sat beside Ralph. "I can't tell you how many times I've imagined meeting you again. You were so nice to me that time Cyril took me to _Root Beer Tapper_."

"_Tapper's_ we call it. And I try to be nice to everyone."

"Yes. I'm afraid I was so shy and awkward that night."

"I remember you there. You had a hard time staying attached to your skeleton."

She sighed with a touch of embarrassment. "Yes. I remember. I wasn't used to being away from my pool here. Being separated from it exhausts me. But I so wanted to go out with Cyril. All the girls kept talking about how much fun he was. And I wanted to see Game Central Station. I'd never been outside my game before."

"Separated like you are now? Do you need to get back in it?"

The sky unit suddenly landed nearby and Vanellope picked it up and set it with the hoverboard.

"Oh I'm fine for short times out. In fact separation is one of the best ways to defeat me in my boss fight. The player can lure me out of it if he's got the right item, and my life bar falls twice as much as it does for the same hits when I'm in the pool."

"I see. So what do your friends call you? Besides the Quarry Ink?"

She laughed. "Inky, just like the ghost in _Pac-Man_."

"I suppose that's appropriate."

"Some of the ghosts here have been trying to hook me up with him. Then we could be Inky and Inky."

"And...are you going to?"

"Well..." she looked over at Ralph. "I know it's stupid, but I've kinda been holding out for you. I know...I know. We're not exactly a perfect couple."

Ralph's brow furrowed. "Wait. You didn't want me to come here, and you didn't want us to meet. So what do you mean that you were holding out for me?" He gave her a look of questioning.

"I know," she sighed. "I'm so torn. Ever want something you couldn't have that wouldn't be right to have even if you found a way to get it?"

Ralph thought a moment, and then he reached out and put his his hand onto hers. For a moment it sat atop her skin but then her blackness oozed around it and he felt the fingers of the skeleton entwine with his. "I think I can understand that." He sighed and looked at her. "But you realize that you're your own biggest obstacle by doing that?"

"Yeah..." She sighed and slumped forward, her free arm wrapping about her knees.

They sat without speaking for a while, shyly holding hands, watching Vanellope climb one of the nearby dead trees, until Ralph broke the silence. "I've been thinking a lot about this...trying to decide how I'd proceed when I found you, and found out what you were...how human or non-human you were."

"I'm very non-human. Not even humanoid—though I can be sorta when I pick up a skeleton. I've got a bunch of different ones I use in the boss fight. There's even a horse skeleton." And then she paused and sighed again. "I've thought a lot about it too. At least I've had the advantage of knowing who _you_ are."

"Oh? What do you know about me?"

She giggled. "A lot more than you know about me."

"Like?"

They talked for some time, and eventually Vanellope grew sleepy and she crawled into Ralph's lap and snuggled up as if to sleep. Inky yawned herself. "I hope you'll forgive me if I say goodnight," said Inky. Part of her was already beginning to dribble back into the pool. "It was a long day, and then an emotional evening.

"I guess we're all getting kinda tired,"said Ralph, stifling a yawn of his own.

"If you want you're welcome to sleep here on the bank. Nothing will bother you. I'm the only one in these parts."

"Thanks, but I should get Vanellope back to her game."

"I'm comfortable here," mumbled the girl, her eyes closed but she was apparently not asleep yet.

"She's so cute," smiled Inky.

"Nite nite," said the president-princess.

"Inky?"

As she lifted her face to him again, Ralph leaned toward her and gave her a shy peck on the cheek, the teensiest of goodnight kisses. "Goodnight. It was nice to meet you finally."

The primitive face on Inky's head smiled, and then she oozed back into the pool and was gone.

"Did'ya use your tongue when you kissed her?" asked Vanellope. She yawned again and settled against him like a kitten.

"You sure you don't want to head home?"

"I'm too tired. Like she said, it was a long day and a long evening." She pulled her hoodie over her eyes and was out like a lightbulb.

Ralph smiled down at her, then stretched back, picking her up and tucking her into the curve of his arm. He put his free hand behind his head for a pillow and looked up into the mists.

He'd thought so many times about his unknown admirer—what she would be, who she was. And now he knew.

She was what? A pool of tar? A pool of thick ink? She didn't have a shape of her own. Not even a solid body. She was an oozing mass that could only cling to a skeleton for some form.

He couldn't really hug her. He couldn't really kiss her. That little bit of bliss on the cheek had been given in kindness, but through it he'd worried about her sticking to his lips or accidentally sucking her into his mouth. It was enough getting tossed into that puddle outside of Niceland, but could he have a relationship with someone that was basically his puddle with a personality?

She was very nice, and apparently very capable of love and even of some passion. Her Valentines had proved that beyond a doubt. But beyond that? What kind of a relationship could he have with her?

Vanellope had teased that he was so desperate he'd date anyone. But somehow he knew that Inky, as nice as she was, was just a bit too far outside of his comfort zone. Khaferet? He'd date her. Leora? Possibly. That tall zombie in the red dress? Quite Possibly. Inky? The Tar Babe? Her?

Ralph yawned and closed his eyes.

-o-o-o-o-o-

**_Black Valentine_ continues in Chapter 9: Inevitably**

-o-o-o-o-o-

_Wreck-It Ralph _and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.


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